Eroica
by jenajasper
Summary: SEASON 10 What makes someone a hero? Is it bravery, is is loyalty, is it sacrifice ? And who says that a story can only have one?
1. Chapter 1

Dean was in his room. He was seated at the desk, staring at a blank sheet of paper and holding a pen. The pen's tip was pressed to the top of the page and there it stayed. He didn't know what to write even though, he knew what he wanted to say. The pen moved.

'Sammy'

Dean's thoughts were flowing but, they couldn't get out. He dropped the pen and turned, in his seat, away from the page. He rested his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. The thoughts found their way out.

"I can't watch you torture yourself with this and I won't let you get into something else that we can't fix. "

Dean lifted his head as he ran his hands through his hair. He used the upward momentum to lift himself from the chair and began to pace. Out loud he said, "you can't be a part of what I gotta do. "

With that thought, Dean's breath escaped slow and deep. He closed his eyes. In that instant, he heard Bobby's voice.

"You do what you always do. Run into the fire to help who's ever in it without knowing how you're gettin' out. You do it every time. You're pig headed."

And his own favorite response. " Do you think it's from eating too much bacon ? "

That pulled a laugh out of him. But, it was small and quick and then it was gone.

He stood in the center of the room with his head in his hands then pressed heavily as he rubbed his eyes. He slid his hands down his face until they met at the back of his neck. All of a sudden, he felt an urgency to do something.

He went back to the desk, took a seat and picked up the pen.

'I fight that's what I do. But hurting you and Cas, that's it for me. the end. I won't, I can't put you in a position where you might have to….'

Dean whipped out his arm, releasing his grip on the pen. It struck the wall with so much force, it bounced back onto the desktop and sliding across, it fell to the floor.

"I can't put that on you", he said. "I took the Mark without knowing what... The things I did. To you, both of you, all of you. The people I love, my family"

This time when Dean stood up, he slammed his hands on to the desk. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. Instead, it all came out slowly, like air from a tire.

"I hurt my family."

His eyes focused on the desk lamp. He saw the picture, creased from multiple folds and faded from time, leaning against the base. A picture of him and his brother, smiling and happy and young, so much younger, when evil was always monsters from somewhere else.

He picked up the picture and did something remarkable. He held it in the palm of his hand and pressed it to his chest. It was, maybe, a way to absorb it into himself. Like trying to keep it, memorize it. Pull the emotion inside.

He cleared his throat as the feelings must have settled there. Then he licked away the dryness from his lips, even, as he swallowed saliva collecting in his mouth. He sniffled and felt moisture in his eyes. He laughed at himself; such a girl, he thought.

He blinked quickly and wiping his face with his other hand, he returned to himself.

He placed his free hand on the note atop the desk and pressed his fingers firmly on the page. Curling his fingers, he dragged the sheet of paper into itself and crumpled it in his hand.

His mind drifted to earlier in the day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dean, please."

"I know, Sammy, I know. But I can't…."

"Not like this." Sam interrupted. He never wanted to hear the rest of that sentence. " Just think about what you're saying."

"I have thought about it. I know what I'm saying and what I gotta do."

"Promise me you won't do anything until tomorrow, please."

Dean didn't speak. A promise to his brother was sacred to him. It was the only thing, besides his love, that he could give Sam that had value, real value. He wouldn't give that promise easily and he wouldn't break it.

"Please, promise me."


	2. Chapter 2

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHEN

Sam continued to stare at the book in his lap. He wasn't reading no matter what he told himself. He was unable to concentrate; he could barely make out the words. All his brain was capable of doing was trying to understand how the most impossible situation they had ever faced, had just gotten worse.

He had come to this reading room to escape all of that. He wasn't naive enough to believe that this collection of fiction and fairy tales was without purpose for the Men of Letters. But, if he kept his thoughts on the surface, he should be able to enjoy 'Treasure Island' or a Sherlock Holmes mystery for the stories they told. But still, his mind wandered.

Cain was supposed to be the answer. Wasn't the Mark supposed to die with him? Didn't he tell Dean that he would have to kill him? But for what? They were no better off; in fact, now it appears that the one person, who may have known what to do, was dead. Sam closed his eyes and just then, his thoughts were interrupted.

"Sam, I'm glad you're here."

He looked up and answered. "We live here, Cas. Where else would I be?"

Castiel looked around the small reading room oblivious to the sharp tone of Sam's words.

"I need to speak with you alone,"

Suddenly, he had Sam's full attention. Castiel was nothing if not transparent. His only reason for speaking to Sam alone, was Dean.

"I believe the answer you seek is here, in this room."

"Cas, I know you want to help but, we've already torn this place apart. There's nothing here."

Castiel slowly looked around at the books on the shelves . A slight smile appeared on Sam's face as he rolled his eyes and said, " It's just a figure of speech. It means we looked everywhere."

Cas answered without expression. "Yes, I am familiar with that hyperbole. However, I must disagree. I was in this room with Dean when it happened."

Assuming that there was more to be said, Sam kept quiet. The prolonged silence became awkward then maddening. Finally, Cas continued.

"We were in close proximity; I believe he accused me of invading his personal space when I felt something. I mistakenly assumed it was emotional, a concern for his current situation. But then I realized, it was actually a physical thing."

Sam brought his hands up to cover his face then ran his hands through his hair as he spoke. "Oh, man. Come on, doesn't he already have enough on his plate?"

Cas took a sidelong glance at Sam and furrowed his brow. Then a smile formed and he nodded his head in a confident manner.

"I believe this is 'on his plate'". He used the quotation fingers and added a wink as he said 'on his plate' Sam laughed in spite of himself. Aware that although Cas believed he understood Sam's comment, he really had no idea.

"As I said, it was a physical reaction and it was caused by this." Cas withdrew the First Blade from the inside of his trench coat.

Sam immediately grabbed the Blade in an attempt to put it back in hiding. He was unable to overpower the angel but Cas acknowledged his wishes and returned it.

"That can't be. We've had that thing here for months. Dean held it in his hand and nothing ever happened."

" It may have been the addition of Cain's blood that was the catalyst. All I know is that we need your brother, and the Blade together in this room."

"I don't want him any where near that, He's fighting so hard." Sam paused as a small ray of hope lifted his spirit . "He doesn't have to hold the Blade, does he?'

"No, it happened in an instant and he was unaware."

Sam still worried how to get Dean into the reading room and keep him there long enough for the plan to work.

Maybe it was Serendipity, or maybe the Fates were in a good mood or maybe someone somewhere just decided to give the Winchesters a break. Whatever the reason, Dean chose that minute to walk into the room.


	3. Chapter 3

" Hey, guys !Having a club meeting without me ? "

As Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder, the angel's eyes fell on the shelves directly behind Sam, who turned quickly.

Dean rested his hand where it was and Cas nodded when Sam touched a small leather bound book. He pulled it from the shelf and opened it. "The Secret of Poetry" was printed on the cover page along with a hand written number. He said the words aloud.

Dean's gaze shifted between the two men as he asked, " Fellas, what the hell just happened, here?"

Castiel remained silent and looked to Sam. To his credit, Sam remained amazingly calm, on the outside. Inside, however, he was a quivering mess. Dean had been on edge as they were running out of options and both brothers feared there may be only one possible end to this story.

Dean had asked his brother to stop looking, stop trying, in essence, stop wasting, what he believed, was the little time they had left. All Sam wanted was to save Dean and he couldn't stop trying. But each time they were disappointed, it became more difficult for Dean to hang on. In truth it became more difficult for them all.

Sam wanted to be careful with what he told Dean. Lately, he had been quick tempered and uninterested in any talk of a cure, especially since killing Cain was supposed to do the trick. But, his reaction to discovering the book encouraged Sam to believe that maybe this had promise. Sam looked to Cas.

"Yes, I believe there is something in that book that we need."

Dean closed his eyes and taking a big breath in, he blew it out slowly, an effort to keep himself under control. He opened his eyes and took another big breath before speaking.

'If this is another...if you think ...Dammit Sam !, I asked you to let it go "

Dean's voice had started out very loudly but by the time he was done, he was almost whispering. He saw a look on Sam's face that hit him like a physical blow to the gut. He turned his back and spoke softly, unable to take the hope he saw from his brother's face.

"Ok, Sam, what is it?"

"Cas thinks this book is gonna tell us what we need to know."

Dean turned back around and positioned himself in place to create a triangle of the three men. "Really? A poetry book ?" He paused and gave his brother a look like he had just told him that unicorns were real.

Then he smiled and looked at Sam like maybe unicorns were real. He said, "So, what? We're gonna read some limericks and the Mark is gonna run screaming from my arm? 'Cause I'll tell ya it did feel a little itchy for a minute, there."

Sam's smile was small but genuine. Whether Dean was speaking truthfully or not, he didn't know. But, hearing him make one of his smart ass remarks without the undertone of disguising fear or despair was refreshing. It felt like the real Dean and Sam hadn't had too much time with that guy lately.

Sam reopened the book and turned to the page whose number had been written under the title. They had no idea what this page would tell them.

Maybe it would be nothing. Maybe it would be the answer. Maybe it would be promising. Maybe it would be devastating.

The page contained one poem without a title. Unable to keep his academic curiosity at bay, Sam studied the poem. He believed it to be epic, a story telling piece. He studied the structure of it. It wasn't 'The Odyssey', for sure. They certainly didn't have time for that. It was less than a dozen lines and he noticed something else unique about it.

He told his brother to grab a pen and then he spoke the first letter of each line. It struck him that they were bold and twice the size of the rest.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean wrote the letters down one by one, then read them as a word. He laughed, a small single burst, more breath than sound. He looked up, with a smile still on his face.

"This might be alright. But I think you left out the 'T' , Sammy"

While Cas took a second look at the page, Sam looked at Dean and slowly shook his head as he rolled his eyes.

"No, Dean, Sam is correct. The word is 'eroica'. It means hero"

This time, the laugh that came from Dean was harsh and cold and it was followed by words spoken in the same tone.

"Well, that's got nothing to do with me."

Sam wavered, as he intended to take a step toward his brother then willed himself to stop. He wanted to grab Dean and shake him senseless.

Instead, he spoke calmly, his teeth practically grinding together with the effort of controlling his anger and frustration.

"Dammit, Dean, this has everything to do with you."

Holding the book in one hand, making it appear small and insignificant, Sam held it up directly in Dean's line of sight who then turned away shaking his head in disagreement or disbelief.

Dean walked across the room and leaned against the shelving.

Sam wrinkled his brow and squinted as if in pain. He wanted so badly to understand what his brother was feeling. This was the closest they had ever come to anything that could be real. If this was the answer, good or bad. they needed to find out.

Sam unconsciously turned the book over and over running his hands across the worn leather as he watched his brother. He heard Castiel speak his name and it brought his attention back to the room.

He opened the book and read the poem, "EROICA"

He read it again, to himself, before he called to Dean and read it aloud.

**E ****ven as the mark is drawn, the end was written**

**R ****eason fails as violence claims their souls**

**O** **ne of true faith will rise to be the champion**

**I ****nto a place that's known he calls them all**

**C ****ut fatal with one blade evil is smitten**

**A** **nd so in death, as one, the damned will fall**

"Wow, that stinks."

"You think this is a joke, Dean?"

"What I think.." Dean paused as his expression shifted. His jaw muscles twitched and he licked his lips even as he pressed them tightly together. Sam watched his brother's eyes narrow and his gaze become more intense. Dean inhaled slowly and deeply but, before the explosion, that all could see was coming, Cas interjected.

"I believe your brother may have a point, Sam."

Sam spun his head around towards Cas and as he did, he caught a glimpse of the smirk on Dean's face. He had noticed a change in Dean's demeanor since they had found the poem. He became edgy and his speech was clipped and brusque. It was almost as if they were annoying to him.

And as irritated as he was with his brother's behavior. Sam did feel encouraged by Dean's distress. He took it as a sign that ,perhaps, there was something here. He gave his attention to Cas, reluctantly.

"The meter is inconsistent and the rhyming pattern is…..awkward. However, I believe the purpose is not literature so much as information."

Sam could not hold back the smile that appeared on his face. He thanked Cas and read the poem again, slowly.

Time passed before anyone spoke. Cas was standing next to the younger Winchester and reading over his shoulder. .

Sam held the book and continued to stare at the page as if he was memorizing it. And Dean had his arms crossed and his head down.

"I don't understand. Cain is dead and it's not over. It should be over."

"Perhaps, we misinterpreted. We should read it again."

Only Dean had nothing to say, at first. He understood the message perfectly. Because he knew something the others didn't.

Cas spoke next. "Dean, there must be something else. You would have died when you killed him. If this were correct."

"I should be dead. That's what it says. Cain, me..and then it'll be over. Don't you understand!"

By now, Dean had raised his voice almost to a madman's pitch. He seemed not even to be addressing anyone in the room.

Sam was unable to respond; he almost feared interrupting Dean. But, he reached for his brother as he turned to walk away.


	5. Chapter 5

The blow had been violent and forceful. Dean could see the small smear of red where his brother had rubbed his hand across his face. He saw Sam's eyes, wide opened and unblinking. He had seen that look before. It made him feel like a mad dog.

He couldn't do this anymore. The Mark wanted the violence; now they even had it in writing. He had hit Sam, drawn blood and from the look of it, he would have a bruise, a reminder. He had a thought that could have been funny, at another time. Sam would carry his own mark, now.

He thought he was doing the right thing; he sincerely felt he could beat it.

Cain had controlled himself for centuries by living alone and away from others. Dean thought he could continue to work and the inherent violence would satisfy the Mark.

But even with all the evil that Dean knew was in the world, it would never be enough. The urge grew every day. It became more difficult for him and now he had lashed out at the one person who had never given up on him.

He knew that eventually this day might come.

He couldn't, he wouldn't do this again. He had run out of time. He had once asked those closest to him to end it, if there was no other way. They would be caring; they would have mercy.

But, that was not to be. There would be no mercy for him. He would call for Cain and he would end it. He would leave, tonight. Let them both think he was being the hero, maybe that would be easier for them.

He said he would fight to the last of his ability and he was fighting so hard but, he was losing. Death was the only way out. Not only Cain's, but his own. He had been merciful and forgiving with Cain. Sam and Cas had never known that he had spared him. .

He understood it all. Cain would die and the Mark would die and Dean, himself, would also die. But, then, at last, it would be over.

Cas moved toward his friend. He feared the violence was no longer controllable. As he took the step, he saw Dean step back. It puzzled him. However, it didn't deter him. He took the few steps that would allow him to reach out and give his friend what comfort and support he could.

As Sam rubbed his face, he could taste the blood in his mouth; he could feel the wetness on his fingers. And his lip felt spongy as it swelled and filled with fluid.

He stared at his brother. He was losing him. This was supposed to be the answer. Kill Cain and it would be over. The lore was supposed to save Dean. He was supposed to save Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNOW

Sam had finally fallen asleep. His thought was that the tossing and turning had simply exhausted him. He had resisted the urge to to go to Dean's room. Dean had promised him and he would trust that. However, he was very disturbed about his brother's behavior.

Of course, it was a relief to know the answers but, it was as they had feared. Sam was not going to give up. If Cain was dead and Dean wasn't, there must be another way. He was not going to lose his brother again. And he would not let Dean make this decision on his own.

He didn't understand Dean's reaction. He was always so brave and he had already resigned himself to this eventuality, or so he said. But he was angry and argumentative not stoic as he had always been. He missed the brave face that Sam came to know was for his benefit.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean had moved himself across the room, away from Sam and Castiel. He had even turned his back, leaning his left shoulder against the bookshelves. His arms were folded and his legs crossed at the ankles.

Sam recognised that defensive stance. Dean had shut himself off from the rest of them. Sam would not interpret this as fear. At least not of being afraid but, maybe, fear of failure. Of not getting what they needed or wanted or hoped for.

Dean let his head fall forward until it rested on his chest. He was so tired. He was determined to control the Mark until the last of his ability. He was convinced there would be no happy ending.

But Sammy wouldn't stop; he knew that. He wondered how much had been done without his knowledge. How far would he go for answers. He had already witnessed more than he wanted to admit.

He would listen to the last of this. As he turned, in answer to Sam's call, he knocked a row of books out of line. He reached out to push them back in place and his eyes skimmed across the titles. John Steinbeck's 'East Of Eden'.

Dean's breath came out in a sharp burst. It would have been a laugh if he didn't feel so defeated. He walked over to the table to read the final entry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean opened his eyes and, once again, stared at the ceiling. He hadn't been able to sleep. With all that had happened today, his brain was on overdrive. There was an answer; and they had found it.

Unknown to anyone else, he had let Cain live and, with that act of defiance against the power of the Mark, Dean believed he could save himself.

What he had done,instead, was supply the last piece of the puzzle. Killing Cain was the solution but, he would also die . Even as Dean prepared himself for that possibility, the reality of it was still overwhelming.

Maybe it was something that came with age but, suddenly, Dean felt life was more than what he had lived. He envied those people who never learned the secrets he knew. He lived his whole life trying to do good. He sincerely believed he was helping people. He raised his little brother to be a man. He was loyal to his friends and he always gave all that he had.

He didn't want to die.

There was no other way out. He would meet Cain and this time he would kill him.

Surely, he could be forgiven. He wanted so badly to go out as one of the good guys. Could he really call himself a hero?

He checked his watch. Then, he closed his eyes again and turned his full attention back to Zeppelin II. He sang, softly, "Leaves are falling all around….", as he waited for the time to pass.


	7. Chapter 7

"Sam, wake up."

Castiel stood patiently and waited for a response. He watched as Sam pulled the covers tighter around himself and rolled over. He decided to raise his voice, a little.

"Sam, you need to wake up."

Sam made a sound that Cas could not interpret as speech. It wasn't words but, it did indicate that Sam was awake. He turned to face his visitor even as he threw off the covers and sat up.

"What the hell, Cas? It's the middle of the night."

"Dean's gone."

Sam knew he was awake but, maybe…..

"What! No! He promised me he'd wait until tomorrow."

Sam jumped out of bed and instantly, he was at his bedroom door. Cas continued to speak calmly and it caused Sam to stop and listen.

"Sam. it is tomorrow."

As if he could dispute it and perhaps change the reality, Sam looked at his watch. It was indeed after midnight. So, if there was anything to salvage from this, at least Dean had kept his promise.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean had been driving for hours. He barely ate; he hardly slept but, his mind was sharp. He was physically stronger than he had ever been. He found, if he let go, the Mark gave him all he needed. But, not what he wanted. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted peace.

It would be another hour or so before he would reach the barn. He would call for Cain and if the lore was true, he would come. And if the lore was true, they would both die. Because Dean wouldn't stop until this was done.

He had hurt enough people. He had done unspeakable things. And he had lied to his brother, again. He had put them all in danger by not killing Cain the first time.

He saw the look in Sam's eyes when it became clear that there was no other way. He believed Cain was already dead and the lore was wrong. It had to be wrong, he said.

Dean knew the lore was right. Something made him spare Cain's life. Perhaps, in his soul, he knew he would die too and self-preservation, thy name is Winchester. But, there was nothing left now but to man up and do the right thing.

Sunrise was still a little while away when Dean saw the barn come into view. The property was deserted. He drove the Impala around to the back. He didn't want any unwelcome visitors even though, the car could not be seen from the road.

Dean got out of the Impala and stretched his tight muscles. He slowly circled the car blowing out his breath in quick, short puffs. He shook his hands and swung his arms as he walked. He would appear to be a prize fighter warming up, if any one had seen him.

He stopped when he reached the trunk and leaned back. He immediately decided instead to have a seat.

Dean rested his feet on the bumper and his forearms on his thighs. His hands were clasped together and his thumbs slowly wrestled each other. It was time. He needed only to call Cain and he needed the Blade.

He raised his head to look across the farmland. Unconsciously, he opened his hands and pressed them together, from heel to fingertips, his thumbs crossed one over the other.

Dean slowly looked up at the sky knowing full well that his savior was earthbound. He would ask his friend for his help, this one last time.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam turned around and faced Cas. He leaned back and let the door support him. It was taking too much from him just to think that what he was hearing was true.

If Dean was gone, there could only be one reason. He didn't believe there was anything else to be done. He wouldn't let the inevitable happen while he was here with them. He would never put them in the position to have to stop him. Sam knew the word but he couldn't use 'kill' in relation to his brother.

Sam drew in a big breath and blew it out slowly in an attempt to calm himself. His heart still felt like a jackhammer albeit a slower one.

"Cas, why...how do you...what makes…" Sam spoke in choppy half sentences unable to form the question he really didn't want to ask.

Cas was unsure if he was expected to answer. Sam wasn't making any sense to him. He decided that time was short and took charge.

"He is calling to me. He wants me to bring him the Blade."

Hearing the words snapped Sam back to his full capacities. His eyes focused and his nerves tingled. His breathing became deep and slow.

"Where is he?" Sam spoke the words almost in a whisper. And when the answer was not quickly forthcoming, he asked again. This time without so much self control.

Any one else would have thrown up their hands in a protective reaction at the force of Sam's delivery. But Cas was unaffected and answered calmly.

"He is at the barn where he killed Cain. And he wants me to bring the Blade to him. "

"No, you can't. I'm afraid of what he might do. He's given up and he's already killed Cain. Why would he go there now? " Sam paused. His brother was not the symbolic type. He wouldn't need to go back to the place he met Cain and use the Blade to…..

Sam walked quickly out of his bedroom and towards the library. Cas followed from habit, out of instinct? When he found Sam, he had the poetry book in his hand.

"Into a place that's known…. in death as one…...No..No! That son of a bitch." Sam looked up to see Cas staring at him with a quizzical look on his face. Knowing he could never get to Dean in time, Sam asked Cas to take him to his brother.

"Don't you understand? He didn't run away. He didn't give up. Cain isn't dead! That's why Dean is still alive. That's why he went to the barn." Sam's words were rushed and jumbled.

" He prayed to me. I must do as he asks."

"Since when do we follow the rules ? This is Dean! We have to at least try to stop him. ."

Cas looked at Sam as if he were speaking an unknown language.

"Yes, Sam you are right. This is Dean. And you know better than I, if he is determined, he will find a way. He merely needs to call Cain according to the lore. And even without the Blade, I believe Dean will do what he feels he must."

"But without the Blade maybe…."

Cas shook his head slowly as he spoke. "If he believes this is the only way, I feel he will attempt to kill him in any way he can, even with his bare hands."

"But, Cas, if he does kill Cain, Dean will die. We have to help him."

He didn't answer right away. If Dean succeeded or not, he feared the result would be the same. He had no choice but to voice his opinion.

"Sam, If Dean kills Cain, your brother will most likely die. And if he doesn't, Cain will surely destroy him. I feel it would be best to bring him the weapon he needs. It is what he wants. "

"I can't let him do this. I can't leave him out there alone like this, please Cas. There's gotta be another way.! "

"He will not be alone. I will do all in my power to help him. And I will return him to you."

Before Sam could speak, Cas was gone,


	9. Chapter 9

Dean prayed.

"Cas, I need you, buddy. Let's do this one more time. I know you're not okay with it and I never wanted things to go this way. But, I can't let it go on. I can't put Sam through any more. Next time, I might really hurt him and that can't happen. This is the only way. I know that now and I'm good…."

Dean continued to talk to Cas. He was truly at peace with his decision. He knew it was right regardless of how unhappy he was or how much Sam would struggle with it. If there had been any other way…

Dean was suddenly startled by the touch of a hand on his shoulder. Then, almost immediately, he felt all his anxiety and apprehension drain away.

"I'm here, Dean."

Dean lowered his head and began to speak. But even as he asked the question, the angel reached into his trench coat and produced the First Blade.

As he placed the Blade in Dean's hand, he asked "Are you sure this is what you want to do ? It is not too late to stop this."

Dean didn't answer. There was no need. What he wanted was not the question. And from the instant Cain passed him the Mark, it was already too late to stop.

Dean took the Blade and walked toward the barn door. As he ascended the stairs, he mentally prepared himself. Dean was not afraid of a fight but, he had never walked into one knowing he would die

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cain walked into the loft within minutes of Dean's call to him.

Dean held the Blade securely and looking across the room, he saw that Cain's sight was focused past him and further into the loft. Dean turned to see that Cas was still there.

"Cas, there's nothing you can do. I don't want you here for this. "

Dean's face became flushed. He bit his lower lip in an attempt to control his emotions. He could feel the start of tears collecting in his eyes. He wasn't afraid; he was sorry. And he said so.

Cas tilted his head, in that way he had when he didn't understand. And he didn't understand. Dean was willingly going to his death to save others; why would he be sorry to be so brave. He was a hero.

Cas looked away. He wouldn't leave his friend. He couldn't change his mind. This was Dean Winchester, after all. He nodded and disappeared.

He was removed from sight but not from the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean turned to face Cain. He stood as if he had his right hand in his pocket but, Dean knew better. And he didn't care.

"You knew how this dance would end all along didn't you? I am so gonna enjoy killing you. And I don't even mind if I die doing it." He spoke with a voice so deep in his throat that, if there was a tomorrow, he would be sore.

Cain reminded Dean that he had once told him he would call for him. That when he called Dean, this would be the result. He admitted he was tired. And he knew Dean would only get stronger.

"I won't fight you, Dean. I'm too damaged and you have the Blade. Let's just get this over with."

As Dean walked towards him, Cain took a step and turned his back.

"NO! " Dean said.

Cain turned his head and looked over his shoulder. He watched as Dean approached with a heavy step. He held the Blade in his out stretched arm.

"You looked me in the face when you gave this to me. And you're gonna look me in the eye now."

Cain turned back around to face Dean, raising his left arm in surrender. As their eyes met, Cain smiled and said, " Try and get it right this time, Dean"


	10. Chapter 10

Sam felt lost.. He held that book to his chest and hugged it as if it were his most valuable possession.

He stood in that spot unable to move. He didn't believe he knew how. He felt helpless. He had called Dean's phone and of course, he didn't answer. Cas would probably return in less time than it would take Sam to reach the state line. Dean was going to die and there was nothing he could do.

According to nature, a tsunami rolls in after a period of complete silence and a volcano can erupt with no real warning.

In as much time as it took for him to take his next breath, Sam exploded.

He let out a roar that figuratively shook the walls but literally was so forceful, that by the end of it, Sam's voice was shredded and the scream was not only physically painful to him, it would have been difficult to listen to.

It took so much out of him that he coughed as he was unable to breathe normally. The coughing created gasping which turned to choking sobs as the tears collected and fell uncontrollably from his eyes.

He still held the book in his arms and looking at it, he quickly pulled it away from himself and violently slammed it onto the floor. Still unable to move from his spot, he held his head in his hands and cried.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Dean's arm began its swing, Cas stepped into his space and placed his hand on his friend, at the site of the Mark.

He didn't press; he didn't interfere and Dean was totally unaware.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Sam slowly came to control himself, he slid his hands across his face. First, wiping the tears from his cheeks then, running his hands through his hair. There was a comfort in that motion; it was familiar and soothing.

His eyes welled up again with tears and he cried.

He wasn't comforted. There was nothing in this room that was familiar. He was alone.

He wanted to be with Dean. He walked almost without conscious thought, out of the library and down the hall to his brother's bedroom. He stopped at the closed door. If he opened it, and saw the room empty, then this was all true.

Sam opened the door. As if confronted by a wall, he was unable to cross the threshold. Looking into the empty room, his eyes were drawn to the bed. And just as the story had begun, there was a note on Dean's pillow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As the Blade pierced the skin, there was a feeling of electricity and heat in the air. As if by magic, Dean watched Cain transform into billions of tiny pieces, like stars in the sky, like the Milky Way, like a supernova,

Dean had a quick thought of Sam. He would know what to call it.

As the phenomenon expanded, Dean began to feel light headed. He felt his eyes roll back into his head. He took one quick breath and then all went black.

Cas never released Dean's arm.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam felt his heart break as his breath came out dragging one word behind it, "Dean".

The tears began again to form behind his eyes causing him to blink and sniffle. He was forced to swallow as saliva collected in his mouth. and against all his conscious will, he stepped into the room.

As he approached, he could see the folded paper was addressed to him.

"Not again," he said, "I can't do this again."

Then suddenly, his feeling changed, like the flip of a coin. 'Dean wrote this to me', he thought. 'This may be the last thing he ever tells me.'

Sam picked up the paper and read it. In the upper right hand corner Dean had written '1am' He strangely felt a sense of security.

Of all the things that were going through his mind, of all the things he wanted to say, and out of all that was confronting him, the first thing Dean had wanted Sam to know was that he hadn't broken his promise.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They read the poem, again. They had analyzed it almost to the word and still couldn't understand the message.

"So, obviously, this is just another waste of time!" Dean was raving. He was stalking around the room as if he were a trapped animal. His breath was forceful and audible. He suddenly walked up to his brother and screamed in his face. "Why couldn't you just leave it alone!"

He turned away and held his head as if it were about to explode. He started muttering. "I gotta get out of here. I gotta go. I just gotta go."

Sam reached for his brother's arm in an attempt to stop him. Dean violently wrenched himself free from Sam's grasp and, in the process, hit Sam's face, hard.

As Sam staggered back, Cas reached out and touched Dean. It calmed him or at least it stilled him. Dean looked at his family and shook his head slowly. His eyes were wet and he bit his bottom lip to hold back the sobs that he could feel building inside.

"I'm sorry. But, we all know what has to be done. I can't be here anymore"

That was when Sam made him promise.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam continued to read. He took notice of the smooth cursive script and knew that this was not a quick note, as was the last message left for him.

Dean had taken his time and chosen the words to form these sentences. This was for Sam to understand; this was from Dean's heart.

'Sammy

-By now, you probably know what's really going on. I lied to you, again and I'm sorry for that but, we know the answer now and there's just no other way. I think we both always knew how this story would end. You would never have agreed to this; that's why I had to leave.

Please understand. I have to do this on my own. You can't be a part of it.

I could barely control myself today and I could have killed you. I can't let that happen. I can't bear to think that's how you would remember me.

I made this mess and now it's time to make it right.

But don't worry, I won't be alone. I will always have you with me, I know that.

Take care of yourself and keep fighting- D'

Sam closed his hand around the letter and sank slowly down until he was seated on Dean's bed. His breath came out in a weary sigh. Sam had nothing left. He wasn't angry, he wasn't upset; he didn't even feel sad. He didn't feel anything at all.

'


	12. Chapter 12

Sam remembers Dean's reaction when he learned that his little brother prayed at night. Yes, Sam had faith. He believed in heaven and angels that were good and protective.

Sam still had faith. But, not in that heaven or those angels. His faith was in the real world, now. He believed in himself and his brother and what they could do. But, he did hold on to his faith in one angel, at least.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Cas, how did you know?"

"I did not know. But, I would not leave my friend."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cas tightened his grip on Dean's arm. He was no longer concerned if he were discovered. The atmosphere in the room was changing. Cas' grip grew stronger as he felt a heat rise from Dean's skin.

Cas felt the Mark moving under his fingers; still he refused to let go. He would not leave Dean alone no matter what the end result. He had promised.

After witnessing what had happened to Cain, Cas would do whatever was necessary to keep Dean with him.

When the last of the lights had flickered out ,Cas watched as Dean spasmed and after one quick breath , collapsed. Still unsure of what might come next, Cas decided to take Dean from the barn and return him home to his family.

Whether or not he would recover was yet to be seen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean awakened in his own bed, with no idea how he got there. Cas must have come back for him, he thought. But, Dean knew he wasn't in heaven. He should be dead, he carried the Mark and they should both be dead.

He sat up and placed his left hand on his right arm. He could feel the raised pattern on his skin, through his shirtsleeve. He thought again of the poem 'EROICA'. Maybe they had misinterpreted the meaning. Maybe there was no way out. Would this never end.?

Dean absently rubbed his hand along his arm. He realized that the pattern on his skin felt different.

Dean yanked up his shirtsleeve and looked at his arm. He saw not Cain's Mark but four cylinder shaped scars like fingers burned into his flesh.


End file.
